Could It Be
by likecominghome
Summary: Lydia and Stiles have known each other their whole lives. They were practically raised like siblings. Which is why they're not sure what to do when they figure out the feelings they have for each other run way past platonic.


Despite the fact that her parents had been happily married for nearly twenty years, Lydia Martin had always considered herself to have multiple homes. Three to be exact. Her father had grown up with two best friends and somehow, Kyle Martin, John Stilinski, and Ken Yukimura had managed to remain friends into their adult years.

Once they'd gotten past their wild youth and decided to settle down, they'd bought houses within a few streets of each other and raised their children together. Lydia had known the Stilinski triplets and Kira Yukimura since before she could speak and she always considered them to be sort of pseudo siblings, who she appreciated seeing as she was an only child.

So when she ran into her Uncle John at the drug store and he invited her to the Stilinski house for a movie night, she didn't really hesitate to agree. Her parents were visiting her grandparents for the evening and she didn't have anything else to do, so she figured why not. She only wished she hadn't run into him while she was buying condoms.

His face had turned bright red when he noticed the box in her hand and he completely avoided making eye contact with her while she purchased them, but he chose not to comment on the situation, figuring that at least she was being safe. That didn't mean he had any intention of telling her father. The world wasn't ready for kind of wrath that would be unleashed if Kyle knew his daughter was having sex. Lydia stuffed the box into her purse and out of sight and smiled awkwardly at her uncle as they left the store, not entirely sure what to say.

The car ride to the Stilinski house was only slightly uncomfortable. Despite the fact that she knew her Uncle John wasn't judging her for what he had discovered in the past hour, the tension of them both knowing she was now sexually active made it hard to think of other things to talk about.

John had subdued the silence by playing at CD full of Nickleback's greatest hits, mumbling under his breath about how he didn't understand the world's universal hate of his favorite band. Lydia was thankful for the distraction because the last thing she wanted at the moment was to discuss her sex life with her favorite uncle.

By the time they pulled into the Stilinski driveway fifteen minutes later, she felt almost fully relaxed and looking forward to putting the incident of before far behind her. John grabbed his white prescription bag from the backseat as Lydia pushed open the door and stepped out of the car. She silently followed him inside, feeling nervous despite the fact that she was practically an honorary Stilinski.

Perhaps it was because it was rare for her to be at their house when Allison wasn't around. Lydia and Allie were practically inseparable growing up and despite the fact that the Stilinski daughter shared very few of Lydia's interests, they had remained close throughout their teenage years.

They walked through the side door into the kitchen to find her Aunt Melissa at the counter, pouring freshly made popcorn into a large bowl. She turned at the sound of the door, raising her eyebrows in surprise when she spotted Lydia, but stretching her lips into a wide, warm smile nonetheless.

Aunt Melissa was one of Lydia's favorite people in the world. She was hilarious and could make any situation feel comfortable and had the insane ability to make everything better with just a hug.

"Hey, Lyd," Melissa greeted, squishing up the popcorn bag in her fist and tossing it in the nearest bin. "Ready for a movie night?"

Melissa didn't even question Lydia's presence in the house because she loved her goddaughter as if she were her own. Sighing contently at the acceptance, Lydia nodded excitedly as she watched John make his way over to peck his wife on the cheek.

"Where's Stiles?" he asked, reaching out a hand for the popcorn and looking a little hurt when his wife slapped it away.

"In his room," Melissa replied, her gaze shifting to her niece. "Lyd, would you mind going up and getting him?"

"Sure," Lydia nodded, "Scott up there too?" she inquired after the third Stilinski triplet. She knew Allison was spending the evening camping in the woods as per usual. Lydia had never known someone who enjoyed hanging out among creepy trees until Allison became extremely proficient in archery.

"No, he's out with some friends," John explained. "Stiles is grounded."

"What for?" Lydia laughed, though she wasn't particularly surprised. Stiles Stilinski had a knack for getting himself in trouble. She was pretty sure he'd spent the majority of his time after school for the past year in detention.

Melissa and John glanced at each other as though not sure they should reply before John sighed and spoke, wincing slightly as he did. "Selling Allie's bikini tops to his friends."

Lydia pressed her lips together to keep from laughing as she walked past them and up the stairs. She knew the Stilinski house like it was her own and found herself easily outside Stiles's door, which was slightly ajar. Knocking softly twice, she pushed it open at the sound of his voice calling her to enter to find him laying stomach down on his bed, flipping through a comic book.

He looked up, expecting to see one of his parents, and his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the girl who, despite knowing his entire life, he often felt was a complete mystery. "Lydia. What are you doing here?"

Seeing as it was a long and embarrassing story, she answered vaguely as she took one step into the room. "I ran into your dad at the store and he invited me over because I'm home alone. Apparently you guys are having a movie night."

Stiles rolled his eyes as he used his palms to push himself into a cross legged position. "Yeah, it's my punishment."

"I heard," she laughed, playing with the leather strap of the purse that was slung across her upper body. "Selling Allie's bikinis? That's just gross, man."

"I don't really see the appeal either," he shrugged. "But all my friends think she's hot or something."

That was fair. Allison Stilinski was like a forest goddess, with her sweet, gently smile and effortlessly cool personality.

Pursing her lips and nodding, Lydia took a moment to look around. Despite the fact that she considered the Stilinski house her second home and she and the triplets were the same age, she'd never actually been in Stiles's room. This was partly due to the fact she spent the majority of her time in this house with Allie. Also, Stiles had a tendency to tease her like there was no tomorrow.

The walls of his room were plastered with band posters, mostly Green Day and Blink 182. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the floor and a black bass guitar leaned upright against the wall. She recalled her father, who played as a hobby, even playing the occasional gig with his two best guitar playing friends every now and again, telling her that he was giving Stiles lessons.

"You still learning from my dad?" she asked, walking slowly towards the instrument and reaching out to run her fingers over the strings.

"Yeah, he's a really good teacher."

She turned her head to find him staring at her intently and felt her heart rate quicken at the intensity of his gaze. She'd be lying if she said she didn't find him beautiful. With his piercing brown eyes and dark hair that he wore stylishly tousled and that disarmingly sweet smile, he looked like something out of an advertisement for high end suits. The girls in their year practically drooled when he passed them in the hallway.

People always thought that because the Stilinski and Martins were so close, that Lydia would have special access to Stiles. But in fact, she'd always been kind of intimidated by him. Sometimes she wondered how the boy that used to purposely pull her pigtails to make her cry had turned into some sort of sex god.

At least, those were the rumors. She had no firsthand knowledge about Stiles's love life, but she heard plenty of girls giddily describing their hookups with him in the bathroom.

"He tried to teach me once," she admitted. "It didn't go over too well."

She recalled how easily frustrated she'd gotten because she hated the way the strings calloused her fingers. Apparently she hadn't inherited the musical gene from her dad.

Stiles shrugged, bringing his lip between his teeth to scratch at the ringed piercing his father had allowed him to get as an eighteenth birthday present. "Yeah, my dad tried to teach me guitar a while back. Uncle Kyle is a lot more patient."

Lydia snorted, rolling her eyes as she turned to face him. "With you, maybe. Because you're not his kid."

The corners of his lips lifted into a devastatingly charming smile. "I guess all parents are the same, huh?"

"I guess so," Lydia spoke quietly, unable to keep herself from mimicking his smile.

"Stiles, Lydia, it's movie time!"

Melissa's voice interrupted their moment and Stiles swung his legs over the side of the bed, gesturing for Lydia to walk out first. They arrived in the lounge room to find John had picked Mean Girls as the movie for the night, a choice neither of them minded, despite the fact that Stiles had watched his father's favorite film about 100 times.

Melissa and John settled back onto the couch and Lydia and Stiles dropped to the floor, where they were given their very own bowl of popcorn and seated themselves comfortably to watch the movie. As the night wore on, Lydia couldn't help but notice how at home she felt. The Stilinski house had always been open to her; her favorite candies stashed away in the back cupboards for her sleepovers with Allie, but it was rare that she ever spent time here without her best friend.

She watched Stiles out of the corner of her eye, laughing along at the appropriate times and genuinely enjoying spending time with his parents, despite his previous grumbles about being grounded and she wondered why she had spent so long being scared to be around him. Underneath that tough, king of campus exterior, he was just a regular teenage boy. He even reverted to his immature boyish ways by throwing popcorn at her at various points throughout the movie.

It was late by the time the movie ended and although she knew her parents wouldn't care about her curfew because she was with Uncle John, she didn't really fancy walking home alone past midnight.

"Thank you so much for having me," she grinned as she stood and wiped her buttery hands on her jeans. "This was fun."

She hugged her aunt and uncle goodbye, squeezing her Uncle John a little tighter than usual and swaying slightly as a means of thanking him for his support. As she grabbed her purse and slipped into her shoes, she heard her uncle's voice again.

"Do you want a ride home, Lyd? It's kind of late."

"It's fine," she shrugged. She didn't want to cause them any more hassle for the evening and she could tell her Uncle John was struggling to stay awake as it was. "I can walk. It's only two streets over."

"It's late and it's dark out," John protested. "Besides, if anything happens to you, Kyle will murder me."

Lydia laughed lightly. She loved her father dearly, but he did have a tendency to be overprotective at times. "I promise, I'll be fine."

"I can walk her home."

It took her a second to register that Stiles was the one speaking. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she glanced at her aunt and uncle to find them mimicking her expression.

The eighteen year old shrugged, seeming a little offended that people were surprised at his chivalry. "I'll be back in like a half hour."

"Ok," John nodded, scratching the back of his head. "Thanks, bud."

Lydia wasn't quite sure what to say, so she waved goodbye to her aunt and uncle before silently stepping out the front door and waiting for Stiles to join her. They walked in silence past three houses and Stiles shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and they both wondered what the hell they should talk about.

"Hey, Lyd?" he finally broke the silence.

She glanced over at him, her eyes wide. Lydia Martin had always been something of a beauty. Even when they were young, he had trouble not getting lost in those big green eyes. He never quite knew how to handle it, so he'd resort to pulling her hair or sticking his tongue out at her or something equally childish. She'd become even more stunning over time, looking like a princess with those gorgeous eyes and graceful limbs from years of dancing. "Yes?"

"How come we never hang out?"

If he was being honest, he already knew the answer. It was because he had purposely distanced himself from her to avoid temptation. The truth was that he always wondered how it would feel to have those ridiculously long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.

But he knew better than to make a move on Lydia. Out of all the children he'd grown up with, she was the most innocent and he didn't want to be the one to take that from her.

And there was another reason.

He would never admit it to Uncle Ken or even his own father, but Uncle Kyle was his favorite. Learning bass had been the one constant in Stiles's life. He was good at it and he'd never really been good at anything before. The last thing he wanted was to upset the man who had taught him that in the first place.

She shrugged, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know you hang out with Allie a lot," he went on, not entirely sure why he'd started this conversation, "But don't you think it's strange that we're in the same year and we never hang out?"

Chewing on her bottom lip, she shook her head. "Not really. I mean, we don't really run in the same circles."

"What does that even mean?" he laughed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as they turned a corner. "Our dads are like brothers. Don't you think we should at least be friends?"

She quirked one eyebrow upwards, her fingers sliding along the strap of her purse. "Stiles, I've quite literally known you since the day I was born," she stated, recalling the picture her father had shown her of John's five month old triplets sitting propped up around her as a newborn, "Why are you just now interested in being friends with me?"

"I've always been interested," he muttered honestly.

He didn't mean for her to hear, but when he caught her gaze, she saw it was wide and conflicted and he cursed to himself under his breath, wondering when it was he became so clumsy around girls.

The silence between them returned until she came to a stop outside the front gate of her house, noting the car in the driveway, indicating her parents were home.

"So, thanks," she said finally, looking forward to crawling into bed and forgetting certain parts of the day.

He nodded slowly as he stared at her, his teeth catching on his lip right as his gaze dropped to her mouth. He was a good foot taller than her, which made this almost natural, but once he started looking, he couldn't stop. Her lips were just calling him and although he'd spent years perfecting the art of keeping his distance, he found himself leaning downwards, yearning for their taste.

Before he could touch her, however, she took a step backwards, looking completely horrified. Her fingers tightened around her purse strap, her eyes shooting daggers. "What the fuck are you doing?"

His jaw dropped open and he gaped at her. He didn't consider himself any sort of lothario, but he did pretty well with girls and he'd never had one be completely horrified when he tried to kiss her before. It was disarming and he didn't know how to react.

"I-I-I," he sputtered, trying desperately to form words but coming up with nothing.

"You were trying to kiss me," she accused, crossing her arms over her chest and popping out her hip in a very distracting manner. She didn't give him time to respond. "What the hell, Stiles? A minute ago you were talking about wanting to be friends and now you're trying to lay one on me?"

"Sorry," he blinked, rocking back on his heels, a little taken aback because he'd never heard Lydia's voice reach such a high volume. "I guess I misread the situation."

It was her turn to look confused. For all the years that she'd known Stiles Stilinski, she never once got the sense that he was interested in her. Honestly, she didn't think he was even aware she was a girl. Scott was always super polite and would tell her she looked nice if they were ever dressed up, but Stiles's eyes generally just glazed over her, as though she was just a piece of furniture in the room.

"I don't understand," she said slowly, those big eyes wide as ever, "You've never liked me like that. You've never noticed me."

"Is that really what you think?" he chuckled, removing a hand from his pocket to tug at his hair, causing it to stand straight up. "Because I'm pretty sure I've spent the majority of my life trying not to notice you."

Her blinks were rapid as she stared at him as though he'd grown another head. "What, so I spend one movie night bonding with your family and all of a sudden you're all over me? That's not how this works, Stiles."

Lips parted in amazement, he shook his head in disbelief, his fingers weaving into his hair to dishevel it further. He couldn't stop the volume of his voice from rising as he spoke. "Are you actually listening to anything I'm saying? Because I promise you that nothing about this is sudden."

Before she could retort, the front door of her house swung open and her father stepped onto the porch, his thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion until he recognized his nephew's figure.

"Hey, Stiles!" Kyle called out, raising one hand in a wave and shoving the other one in the pocket of his jeans. "What are you guys doing out here?"

Lydia was the one who piped up to respond, smiling sweetly at her dad. "Uncle John invited me over for a movie night and Stiles walked me home because it's late."

"Oh," Kyle nodded, his other hand slipping into his pocket, "That was nice of you. Thanks, man."

Gulping back the words he wished he could say, Stiles nodded and flashed his favorite uncle a grin. "No problem. Goodnight, Uncle Kyle."

Lydia took this as an opportune moment to exit the situation and shot Stiles a tight smile before pushing open the gate to her house and brushing past her father as she walked inside. She bid her parents goodnight before hurrying up the stairs to get ready for bed.

As she changed into pajamas and brushed her teeth, she wondered if perhaps she'd handled the situation all wrong. Stiles's declaration of attraction was surprising, yes, but not as offensive as she made it seem.

In all honesty, she was more terrified than anything. Terrified that she would open herself up to someone only to have them treat her like a plaything. She knew all about Stiles's reputation and she really didn't need that kind of drama in her life. So when her phone lit up with a text message from him later that night that read 'Come on, Lyd, we need to finish this conversation', she ignored it, deciding that protecting her heart was much more important than her desire to discover all that was Stiles Stilinski.

…

There were many things Lydia found difficult, but dancing was never one of them. She felt completely at home as she stretched her limbs and leaped in the air and contorted her body into positions most people could only dream of replicating.

She always felt refreshed and relaxed and ready to take on the world when she left the studio. With the strap of her duffel bag hiked over her shoulder, she sipped on a bottle of water as she stepped into the front lobby, her eyes searching for one of her parents. Although she generally walked home from dance class, her mother had said she might be able to pick Lydia up this time. What she saw instead was the last person she wanted to encounter.

He sat on one of the pleather benches in the lobby, rubbing his hands together nervously until he saw her and jumped to his feet. His lip ring and perpetually tousled hair combined with his all black ensemble was a stark contrast to the poised properness of the dancers milling about.

Sighing heavily, she crossed her arms over her chest as she came to a stop in front of him. "Stalking? Is that really what it's come to?"

"You've been avoiding me," he protested. "What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," she rolled her eyes. "Take a hint, maybe?"

She made to move past him, her eyes once again searching for the person who was supposed to take her home.

"Your dad sent me to walk you to our place. Our parents are hanging out."

Pressing her lips together in annoyance, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, setting her angry glare upon his face. "Well, that's convenient."

"I volunteered," he shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching into a satisfied smile. When she didn't seem impressed, he sighed and wove his fingers into his hair. "We can't just pretend nothing happened, Lyd. Whether we like it or not, we're going to be in each other's lives forever, so we might as well work this out."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. The longest fight her dad and Uncle John had lasted five hours and was over who actually won that Fifa tournament. She couldn't really imagine a world where the Stilinskis didn't come and go from the Martin house as though it was their own.

"Come on," she muttered reluctantly, nodding towards the door. "We should start walking."

He took this as a good sign and watched the way her hips swung gracefully for a moment before rushing to catch up, his fingers pushing into his pockets as they once again found themselves walking in silence.

Lydia was still processing. The entire situation seemed too surreal. She'd known Stiles for nearly eighteen years and most of those had been spent yelling at him for stealing her juice boxes or pulling her pigtails. They went from not really being friends to him trying to kiss her in a very short amount of time.

This time, she was the one to break the silence. "I'm sorry I haven't been answering your texts," she said quietly, avoiding eye contact and finding the zipper of her duffel bag fascinating. She'd done a great job of ignoring his pleading messages and avoiding him at school for the past three weeks. "I just don't really know what to say to you."

"Yeah," he sighed, bringing his lip ring between his teeth and rubbing it lightly. "I guess I kind of made things awkward, didn't I?"

She laughed softly, which caused his lips to lift into a smile because he liked the way the sound made him feel warm. "It probably wouldn't have been if it had any sort of buildup. It was all kind of out of the blue."

"It wasn't though!" he blurted out.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, slightly taken aback by the outburst because she'd never thought of Stiles as particularly persistent, but she didn't speak and let him continue.

"You said before that I never noticed you," he went on slowly, his steps becoming more deliberate with each word. "But that's not true at all. I've always noticed, I've just never done anything about it."

This was very unlike Stiles. He was very pro going for what you want, screw the consequences.

"Why not?" she said, her voice barely audible.

"Because you were supposed to be like my sister," he replied, staring at her beautiful profile, wishing she would look at him. "We were raised together. I'm pretty sure there's pictures of us bathing together framed in our lounge room. So you can imagine that I was a little weirded out by thinking you were pretty. I mean, at first, when we were younger, I brushed it off because, you know, all girls are pretty. But then there was this one day when you and your parents were over at our house for dinner and all of a sudden I was wondering what it would feel like to kiss you and it freaked me out because it was definitely not the kind of thoughts I would have about my sister."

"That makes sense," she said softly, finally catching his gaze and feeling her stomach tighten into knots. "And I appreciate the explanation. But you had eighteen years to figure this out and I just sort of assumed you always just kind of knew about my existence, so you gotta give me time to catch up."

"Yeah," he nodded quickly, sighing a little in relief because it didn't seem like he'd offended Lydia to the point where she no longer wanted to associate with him at all. "Yeah, I get it. I'm sorry if I made things really uncomfortable."

Her smile widened and he mirrored the action without question as she spoke. "It's alright." There was a pause as she chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "Hey, Stiles, maybe we should try being friends."

"Friends…" he spoke the word slowly as though it was a foreign language.

"Yeah," she grinned, "Like, people who hang out when they don't have to and have conversations every once in a while."

"Friends," he repeated as they turned onto his street. He didn't have many friends that were girls, preferring hookups to hangouts, but he had known Lydia forever and he was going to know her for the rest of his life, so he figured becoming friends with her probably wasn't the worst thing in the world. Nodding, he returned her wide smile. "I'd like that."

…

Late night visits to the woods were one of her favorite traditions. It started the night Allison, the oldest of them, got her first car. She'd coaxed Lydia and Kira into sneaking out of their houses and they'd made a road trip down to the clearing that overlooked Beacon Hills. Allie had practiced her shooting and Kira and Lydia had sat huddled beneath a blanket on a wooden log, taking turns sipping from a bottle of vanilla flavored vodka that Kira had managed to swipe from her parent's liquor cabinet. They gossiped and laughed and sang loudly and just enjoyed being together. Being responsible, they thought it best not to drive back while tipsy and slept beneath that shared blanket, waking up with the sun to sneak back into their bedrooms before their parents noticed they were gone.

Two years later, they had absolutely perfected this practice and as Lydia and Kira sat with their blanket over their shoulders and the vodka bottle stuck in between them, they watched Allison's moonlit outline shoot an arrow straight into a tree trunk and cheered before Lydia turned her attention back to Kira and settled in to hear the rest of her story.

Kira Yukimura was on her way to becoming the next big supermodel in the country and was currently fighting off the affections of teenage boys with her take no bullshit attitude. She found the male attention extremely flattering, but she was too worried about whether or not she was going to make it as a model to put too much thought into it. As a result, she left many boys heartbroken and was in the midst of telling Lydia about how one tried to follow her home from a photoshoot when Allison returned from the trees and lay her bow and quiver full of arrows down in the back of her car.

Smiling widely, she reached out for the bottle of vodka, indicating she was done shooting for the night and raised her eyebrows in question. "What's going on?"

"Kira's breaking hearts all over the place," Lydia explained with a grin as she handed Allie the bottle.

Allison snorted with laughter. "What else is new?"

Kira rolled her eyes. "Can we talk about someone else? Like you, Lyd? How's your love life?"

It was Lydia's turn to snort. "You say that as though I have a love life."

"What are you talking about?" Allison chimed in, dropping her butt onto the ground and pulling her legs into a crossed position as she took a swig of vodka. "I know like ten guys that would kill to go out with you."

Lydia shot her best friend a pointed stare. "They don't want to go out with me, they want to sleep with me." Apparently, these guys thought that being flexible meant she was automatically fantastic in bed.

"That could always be fun," Kira offered, retrieving the vodka bottle from Allison.

"I guess…" Lydia trailed off, trying to figure out the best way to change the subject.

"Is there something on your mind?" Allison asked, her brow furrowing in concern. Lydia didn't have time to respond before her friend spoke again. "Or someone?"

Kira's eyes lit with joy and she huddled closer to Lydia beneath the blanket. "Is there someone you've got your eye on?"

"Kind of," she admitted, feeling a weight in her chest lift at having that information out in the open. "He likes me, but the entire situation is just really complicated, so I'm not sure if it can ever go anywhere."

They both looked confused, but Lydia didn't know how else to explain without giving away too many details. She knew their next question would be the identity of the mystery man, so she shut that down as well.

"Do you mind if I don't tell you who it is?" Lydia said quietly.

Allison's brow crinkled, but she nodded as she reached forward and squeezed Lydia's ankle over the blanket. "Yeah, it's no problem. We're here for you no matter what."

"Yep," Kira nodded in agreement, wrapping her arms around Lydia and squeezing. "We love you, so if you want to tell us you can, but it's not a big deal."

"Thanks guys," Lydia sighed, wondering if they would still love her if they knew the name of the boy that consumed her thoughts.

…

She'd never really been too into birthday parties, but as she stood in front of her mirror, smoothing down the skirt of the scarlet dress her mother had bought her, she couldn't help but be a little excited. Turning eighteen was a major milestone after all.

Running a hand through the hair she'd somehow managed to coax into loose curls with a hot iron, she took a deep breath, gave herself a nod of approval, and went to descend down the stairs to greet the guests that had already begun arriving.

She wasn't entirely sure she knew most of the people invited, as although all of her dance friends were present, her father's love of parties meant that many of his work contacts were in attendance as well. Of course, this included her uncles and aunts and pseudo cousins, for which she was eternally grateful.

The bottom of her wedged heel hit the last step just as the Stilinski family walked through the door. It took nearly all of her willpower not to meet Stiles's gaze right away. Instead, she focused her attention on Uncle John and Aunt Melissa and accepted tight celebratory hugs from both of them before turning to face the children.

"Hey, girl," Allison greeted, pulling Lydia into a tight embrace. "Happy Birthday. You look amazing."

"So do you," Lydia replied sincerely, admiring the pale blue lace of her dress that made her eyes pop and her skin seem more radiant than usual and swearing her friend became more stunning by the day.

Allison stepped aside to allow Scott to hug Lydia quickly, sputtering out a similar compliment before he and Allie went to find the drinks, leaving Lydia and Stiles face to face.

The eldest of the Stilinski triplets smirked as he came to a stop in front of Lydia, looking particularly delicious in a black blazer over a white button up and dark jeans. He leaned down to kiss her softly on the cheek, leaving the skin heated and red.

"You're beautiful."

She probably shouldn't have become breathless. In the past couple months of their test run at friendship, he'd spewed out compliments left and right. At first, she found herself blushing profusely every time he'd casually use a term of endearment, but eventually, she got used to it and learned to enjoy their conversations during lunch time or when he'd pause to say hello to her in the hallway at school.

It was quite problematic that she'd ended up developing a crush on Stiles Stilinski. Although she'd been flattered by his initial declaration of attraction – and she couldn't deny finding him aesthetically pleasing as well – she figured they had absolutely nothing in common and found herself waiting for the day when their friendship would come to an inevitable end. Instead, she found out that he was hilarious and quick witted and quite possibly one of the most genuine people she'd ever known.

"Thanks," she muttered, tucking a loose curl behind her ear as she stared at her white wedges in an attempt to hide her reddening cheeks. Her lips parted again because she had about a million things she wanted to say to him, but she knew now wasn't the right time, so she settled for accepting the shortest hug in the history of mankind and turning her attention to the other guests walking through the door.

The party went off smoothly, which was expected seeing as her parents were the ultimate hosts and eventually, she found herself relaxing with Allie and Kira as she sipped on glasses of punch and ate finger foods, thoughts of a certain dark eyed boy stuffed in the back of her mind because he was being kept entertained by her father.

At some point, she became a little overwhelmed by the attention and needed some room to breathe, so she quickly slipped up to her bedroom, glad that the multitude of people present would keep her parents from noticing. She shut her door once inside, slipping out of her heels and digging her toes into the plush carpeting to relieve the tension in her feet. Despite spending so much time on the balls of her feet during dance class, she hadn't quite gotten used to wearing high heels.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, allowing her heart rate to slow. The muscles in her leg were beginning to cramp, so she rolled her ankles before extending her leg and pointing her toes behind her, arms automatically lifting into a graceful stabilizing position.

"Always the dancer," a low chuckle rang out from behind.

Eyes shooting open, she nearly toppled over as her leg found the floor and she spun around to see Stiles leaning back against her closed bedroom door, his arms crossed over his chest and an extremely devious smirk twisting his lips.

"What are you doing up here?" she asked, breathless, but not just because she was surprised by his presence.

One of his eyebrows quirked upwards. "What are you doing up here? There's an entire houseful of people waiting for you downstairs."

"I know," she sighed, wiggling her toes into the carpet and sliding the bangles on her wrist up and down her arm. "It just got a little crowded and I needed a break."

"It's good actually," he replied, pushing himself off the door, "Cause I wanted to give you your present."

Her eyes darted towards the door and she licked her lips as he stepped towards her. "I think I'm opening all the presents in a little bit." She honestly didn't know if that was true, but she needed an excuse to leave. Now that she was certain her feelings ran past platonic, she didn't trust herself to be alone in a room with him.

"In case you're wondering, my parents got you cash," he replied, completely unperturbed. He was a man on a mission. "But I got you something separately and I wanted to give it to you."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Eighteen years of signing her name on cards her parents bought had not prepared her for this moment. "You did?"

"Yep," he grinned, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out a small rectangular box, wrapped in silver paper. He handed it to her proudly.

"S-Stiles," she stuttered as she accepted the gift, her small fingers slipping beneath the folds of the wrapping to break open the tape. "This is so sweet and so unnecessary."

His eyes lit with happiness, his grin widening as he watched her drop the wrapping paper to the floor and lift the lid of the box to reveal a delicate silver bracelet. She held her breath as she lifted it with two fingers, staring in wonder at the intricate links and the single ballet shoe charm that hung from one side.

"Do you like it?" he asked softly, his eyes searching her face because he couldn't read her expression. He wasn't used to buying gifts for girls, at least not meaningful ones, and more than anything he wanted her to understand that she meant something to him. Despite his reputation, he didn't consider Lydia a plaything to use for him enjoyment until he got bored. Her friendship was important to him and he wanted her to know.

Her lips parted and her eyebrows dipped slightly as she stared at him in awe for a moment before she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. It didn't go nearly as smoothly as she would have liked due to the fact that he had over a foot on her in terms of height and her fingers ended up barely connecting at the back of his neck as she stood on her tip toes.

Letting out a surprised laugh that she felt course through her body, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her slightly off the ground, swaying her back and forth a few times before setting her down again.

"Stiles, this is beautiful," she gasped, slipping her hand through the bracelet and staring up at him. "I don't even know what to say."

To be honest, neither did he. Because she was staring at him with those deep, green eyes that could rip a person's soul in two and he was getting lost in all the colors. The words that escaped his lips next weren't meant to leave his mind.

"I want to kiss you."

Her already wide eyes grew to the size of quarters and she visibly gulped. There had never been another instant in his life that he wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole, but it seemed like when it came to Lydia, he was an expert at making things as uncomfortable as possible. He was completely ready to excuse himself from the room when he heard her soft reply.

"Ok."

As soon as she agreed, she wondered if she'd made a huge mistake. Of course, she wanted to kiss him; that wasn't the problem. The problem was that she had no idea what would happen afterwards.

What if she hated it? What if the reason the sizzling tension between them existed purely due to the fact that it was untapped and undiscovered? What if they realized their apparent chemistry was all due to the mystery and disappeared when they actually acted?

The more she thought about these questions, the more she wondered if she should change her mind as he stepped towards her, one hand reaching out to rest at her waist. But as his other hand swept her hair back from her forehead and she stared at his focused expression, detecting a hint of hesitance on his end as well, she came to the conclusion that perhaps just going for it was the best option. At least if it was a horrible kiss, they could go back to how things were and be normal friends without constantly dancing around the possibility that they could be more.

She lost her train of thought as his head lowered, his palm gently cupping her cheek and his lips turned just slightly upward. Her eyes fluttered closed and she held her breath, counting the heartbeats until their lips finally connected.

The first thing she noticed was that his lips were incredibly soft, as though he was in the habit of smearing on Chapstick every five minutes. The cold metal of his lip ring bore a sharp contrast to the warmth of his mouth, but she enjoyed the differing sensations and nearly sighed in contentment when he deepened the pressure on her lips.

At first, he kissed her slowly, almost cautiously, as though she was fragile and he didn't want her to break. After a few moments, he decided he could no longer handle that torturous pace and slipped his fingers behind her hair and his arm around her back and pulled her flush against his chest. She gasped into his mouth, momentarily returning the pressure before her eyes shot open and she pushed herself away, lifting her fingers to her lips because she could still feel him there, his metal ring leaving a small indentation in her lower lip.

"Sorry," he said, purely out of habit, because in all honesty, he felt a little disoriented. Of course he'd enjoyed kissing Lydia, he knew he would, but he hadn't expected the strange fluttering sensation that had begun in the pit of his stomach. He wondered if that was due to the fact that she was currently looking at him as though she wished he was anyone else.

"Dammit," she muttered, pulling at her bottom lip before threading her fingers through her loose curls.

"Was it bad?" he asked, his ego a little bruised. He had a lot of practice kissing and he'd never had any complaints before.

"You know it was fucking fantastic," she snapped, beginning to pace. "That's exactly the problem."

"I'm not following," he pulled his thick brows together in confusion, his heart soaring at her assessment of his kissing skills. "If it was so great, then why are you upset?"

She paused her pacing, taking her bottom lip between her teeth and dropping her gaze to his lips. "Because I want to do it again."

"Great," he grinned widely, reaching out for her waist. "Let's do it again."

She swatted his hand away and took two steps backwards, shaking her head. "We can't, Stiles. We can't do this."

"Why the fuck not?" he demanded. "You know how I feel about you, Lyd. And whether or not you choose to admit it, I know you care about me too. So why the hell can't this happen?"

She gaped at him for a moment. "What would we tell our parents?"

"Why would have to tell our parents anything?" he shrugged.

"They'd absolutely kill us," she insisted.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic? It's not like we're forbidden from seeing each other. Our families hang out all the time. They probably won't even notice."

She was running out of excuses and the longer she stared at him, the more she began to wonder why she was making them in the first place. Truthfully, the main reason she was so hesitant was because she was afraid that if she fell for him, she wouldn't recover if he broke her heart.

But perhaps that was thinking too far in the future and she needed to live in the moment. So she nodded and lifted her eyes to meet his. "You're right."

A weight lifted from his chest and he couldn't stop smiling because now that he'd had a taste of her vanilla flavored lips, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get enough. His hands automatically attached to her waist and lifted on her tip toes to meet him halfway, kissing him soundly on the lips. They pushed their lips together for a good thirty seconds before she giggled and lowered her feet flat to the floor, her cheeks heated and rosy and beautiful with a flush.

"I need to get back downstairs," she said softly, letting go of his shirt that had been crumpled in his fist. "They're going to notice I'm gone soon."

Nodding, he leaned down for just one more kiss, knowing it wouldn't quench his thirst entirely, but excited at the thought that there would be much more making out in the future.

One eye dropped in a wink when he let her go, resisting the urge to take her hand. "Come on, gorgeous. Let's go celebrate."

…

Sneaking around wasn't exactly new territory for him; he was quite used to slipping through bedroom windows and hiding girls behind doors so his parents wouldn't notice. Still, Stiles's father was well aware of his tendency to have girls in his room and he didn't so much condone it as he did actively ignore it. John figured punishing his son for this behavior could only lead to him becoming more reckless. Besides, as far as he could tell, Stiles was being completely safe.

The best part of sneaking around, Stiles thought as he checked his hair in the shiny metal of the refrigerator, was the knots of anticipation he got in his stomach. They were there this time as well, but they were joined by that same fluttering that occurred whenever he knew he was about to see Lydia.

Stiles got bored easily, one of the many reasons he hadn't had a steady girlfriend, despite his lavish interest in women. They were fun for hookups but eventually his mind began to wander, and more often than not, his hands followed. Lately, however, it seemed that whenever his mind wandered, it landed on the same gorgeous strawberry blonde.

He thought about Lydia more than he'd ever thought about anyone before and at the oddest times. He thought about her when he brushed his teeth, wondering if she flossed first, or just went straight for the toothpaste. He thought about her when he was eating dinner with his family, wondering if she cut up her spaghetti before she twirled it around her fork or if she slurped it through her perfect lips. He thought about her when his parents gave him lectures about breaking curfew, thinking that if she was there, she'd probably squeeze his hand and tell him everything was going to be alright.

He wasn't entirely sure what all of this meant, but he did know he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible and was ecstatic that she felt the same way.

Biting down on his bottom lip, he tugged his hair into an upwards style before deciding it looked dumb and flattening it again and then repeating that process. Lydia was coming over and he wanted to look his best.

He'd texted her after school, telling her drop by around eight because he'd have the house to himself. Allison was spending the weekend camping the woods with some of her archery friends and Scott was spending the night at his friend's house. His mother was having a girl's night with her friends and his father, Uncle Ken, and Uncle Kyle were in the midst of a Fifa tournament, which would more than likely last until the early hours of the morning. He'd been extremely vague when his parents asked what his plans were for the evening. His relationship with Lydia was delicate and undefined and the last thing he needed was for his parents to get suspicious.

Eyes drifting to the clock above the microwave, he breathed deeply, hoping to quell that fluttering in his stomach, but he felt his heart stop when he heard a noise outside the front door. His lips stretched into a wide grin and he walked excitedly towards the front hall, but stopped short when the door swung open and his brother walked in.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Stiles asked, annoyed and a little anxious.

Scott didn't even bother being offended. "Isaac got food poisoning from the Chinese food we ordered for dinner. I offered to stay, but he didn't want me watching him puke all night. I'll go check on him later."

Stiles blinked rapidly as he processed this information. "So you're going to be home for the night?"

"Yes…" Scott eyed his brother suspiciously, hiking the duffel bag with his overnight clothes higher on his shoulder. "Why are you so jumpy?"

Stiles Stilinski was generally the epitome of confidence. Normally, he would have no problem letting his brother know that he had a girl coming over, but seeing as Scott knew the girl in question extremely well, the complications of the situation made it too uncomfortable for Stiles to speak.

Just when he thought he couldn't be more horrified, he heard a light knock on the front door. Scott raised a questioning eyebrow. "Are you expecting someone?"

The smirk that graced Scott's lips was wide because he was used to his brother's promiscuous nature, but it immediately slackened into a frown of confusion when he pulled open the door to reveal an extremely confused looking Lydia.

"Hey, Lyd," Scott's eyebrows connected above his nose. "What are you doing here?"

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She had expected Stiles to be home alone and having the other Stilinski boy thrown in meant she was forced to come up with an excuse on the spot and lying had never been her forte; her eyes showed far too much emotion. Out of desperation, her gaze flicked to Stiles, who was still racking his brain for an explanation, but took a moment too long and caused Scott's expression to spark with realization.

"Oh," Scott said softly, his gaze flicking between his brother and the girl he'd known his entire life, "Are you two…"

"Scott," Stiles said between gritted teeth, "Bro, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a sec?"

"Sure," Scott sputtered out with a laugh, moving past confusion to find the entire situation hilarious.

Shooting Lydia an apologetic glance, Stiles mouthed for her to wait in his room and followed his brother into the kitchen, rolling his eyes at the wide smirk on his face.

"So…you're hooking up with Lydia," Scott stated simply, as though telling his brother what they were having for dinner. He dropped his duffel bag and hopped up on the kitchen counter, swinging his legs like he used to do when he was a child and looking much too amused for his own good.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's not like that…"

"It's not?" Scott chuckled. "As in, you actually like her?"

"Of course I like her," Stiles shot back defensively. "We were practically raised together."

"And yet," Scott replied wisely, "I don't see you sneaking Kira over when no one's around."

This earned him another eye roll. Stiles sighed, rubbing his fingers into his forehead and thinking his brother was severely lucky that he loved him so much. "Ok, fine," he glared at his brother, refusing to be embarrassed. "I kinda want to hang out with her all the time."

It wasn't exactly poetry, but Scott could tell his brother was being sincere, so he let out a low whistle and dropped his feet to the floor, sliding off the counter. "Damn, man. You've got it bad." He paused for a moment and shot Stiles a serious look. "You know Uncle Kyle's going to castrate you if he finds out, right?"

Stiles winced and nodded. His Uncle Kyle was one of his favorite people ever, but Lydia was Kyle's only child and Stiles knew how protective his uncle was of his baby girl. "I know. But he better not find out from you."

Scott shook his head quickly. "Of course not. I've got you, bro. Speaking of which, I'll make myself scarce."

Stiles wasn't sure he'd ever loved his brother more. Sighing in relief, he grinned and pulled Scott into a tight embrace before jogging up the stairs to join the girl he was becoming crazy about, his heart rate increasing with anticipation when he heard the front door open and close.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed open his bedroom to find her sitting cross legged atop his bed, her strappy sandals abandoned on the floor, holding his bass guitar in her lap and plucking softly at the strings. A soft, indiscernible melody filled the air and he decided he could get used to the sight of her looking extremely comfortable on his bed.

"Not bad," he drew attention upwards, causing her to smile.

She laughed softly and it sounded like his favorite song. "I learned it when I was eight," she said, leaning over to place the bass guitar back on its stand beside his bed and giving him a fantastic view of her perfect boobs. "It's the only song my dad managed to teach me."

He nodded as he closed the door and made his way to the bed, lifting his knees to the mattress and mimicking her cross legged position. "Scott left."

"What did he say?" she asked, staring at her chipping mint green nail polish. She wasn't embarrassed by Stiles as much as she was terrified that her father would find out. The less people that knew about them, the better.

"He was surprised," Stiles admitted, reaching out a hand to tilt her chin upwards. "But he's not going to say anything."

"I didn't think he would," she replied quickly. "He's good at keeping secrets."

Stiles briefly wondered if Lydia had ever told Scott something in confidence. He wouldn't really be surprised. The other Stilinski boy was the least judgmental person Stiles knew and on more than one occasion, Stiles had knocked on his brother's door in an attempt to solicit advice or simply bear his soul.

In the past, Stiles hadn't been too readily accessible on an emotional level, but he did want to be that person for Lydia and he hoped he'd be able to prove that he was trustworthy.

"What about you?" he smirked, shifting the focus of their conversation as his fingers traveled to brush her dark bangs from her eyes. "Are you good at keeping secrets?"

Of course she was. She didn't consider herself a particularly good liar, but she knew how to keep her mouth shut when she had to. Soft spoken and quiet by nature, people usually assumed that Lydia's lack of response was just a facet of her personality and often times, this worked to her advantage.

For example, when her father asked what she was doing tonight, she'd shrugged off the question and he hadn't pressed the issue. If it came up again, she planned on telling him that she was hanging out with Kira. She knew Kira was spending the evening with some of her model friends and since Lydia knew them as well, it wasn't completely unreasonable that she would tag along. Besides, as much as her Uncle Ken loved his daughter, he had a hard time keeping up with her whereabouts and wouldn't be able to definitively remember whether or not Kira had mentioned Lydia being there.

His thumb grazed over her cheekbone as his fingers curved around her jaw and she couldn't help but lean forward and meld their mouths together. The force pushed him onto his back in pleasant surprise and he straightened his legs to allow her to settle her hips between them, marveling at the way their bodies seemed to mesh together.

Tangling her fingers into his hair, she massaged his scalp as they kissed as though they'd been doing it forever. Sometimes she found it completely surreal that she ended up in situations like this with him. Lydia didn't consider herself to have a type when it came to boys, but if she did, she doubted Stiles Stilinski would have fit the bill. He was wild, sometimes to the point of being obnoxious and confident to the point of arrogance, but he was also passionate and he listened to her intently as though every word she spoke was utterly fascinating and he saw her as more than just the quiet girl who sat in the front of the class.

His hands, which had been anchored at her waist, slowly tugged her shirt free from the waistband of her skirt and slipped beneath the soft cotton to graze across her lower back. She giggled against his lips, enjoying the feel of his fingers on her skin. This part was always wonderful: he was so eager when they first began to kiss that he'd push their lips together as quickly as possible until neither of them could breathe and then they'd slow down and find a rhythm and allow their hands to roam up and down each other's bodies.

She wasn't sure how long they'd been making out when she felt something vibrate against her hip. Cocking one eyebrow upwards, she shot him as smirk before glancing down to where his jeans had tightened. "Someone's eager."

"It's my phone," he laughed, nodding towards the faint light shining through the pocket of his ripped skinny jeans and lifting his chin so he could nibble at the connection of her neck and shoulder.

"Don't you want to get it?" she gulped, her eyes fluttering closed as she enjoyed the sensation.

"I'm busy," he mumbled against her skin, flattening his palms against her back to bring her back down against his chest.

Smiling, she found his lips again, but was interrupted by the buzzing once more. "I think someone's trying to get a hold of you," she laughed.

His hands brushed back her hair, weaving his fingers through the silky strands as he pulled her as close as possible, speaking into her lips. "They can wait."

Stiles probably should have picked up the phone. If he had, then perhaps he wouldn't have been so surprised to hear his father's voice in the hallway and perhaps John wouldn't have pushed open the bedroom door to see his best friend's daughter straddling his son.

"Shit," Stiles muttered as Lydia shot backwards, adjusting her shirt so her bra was no longer showing and running her hands through her hair to make it look somewhat tamed, her cheeks flushing a color that under different circumstances, Stiles probably would have thought beautiful.

"Fucking hell, Stiles," John squeezed his eyes shut, bringing up a hand to rub his forehead as though he had a migraine.

Lydia took this as an indication that her time with Stiles for the evening was over and slid off the bed, slipping on her shoes and grabbing her purse and shooting the boy an embarrassed glance. "I should go."

"Wait, no," Stiles protested, sitting up straight, because despite the awkwardness of the situation, he very much wanted to spend more time with her. "You don't have to."

"No, Stiles, I think it's best that she does," John sighed, stepping aside and avoiding eye contact with Lydia as she walked through the door, her hair falling in front of her face to hide her burning cheeks. "Do you need a ride, Lyd?"

She shook her head silently and quickly made her way down the hallway.

"Text me when you get home!" Stiles called out, watching Lydia's retreating figure.

"That's unnecessary," John interjected. "Text _me _when you get home."

Lydia didn't respond, so John watched her slip out the front door and hop on her bike, keeping his gaze fixated on her until she was out of his line of sight and then he turned his confused gaze on his son.

"What the hell, man," John said. Not exactly the best start to a lecture, but he was at a loss for words. Although he knew his son had a reputation for getting around, John had only caught Stiles with a girl one other time and afterwards, he'd sat him down for a serious talk about being respectful. As far as he could tell, Stiles wasn't leading girls on or being cruel or careless, so although he kept a watchful eye on his son's activities, he generally didn't intervene. This time, however, he felt as though he didn't have a choice.

"You've been telling me to be nicer to her since we were kids," Stiles pointed out.

John rolled his eyes. "This is not what I meant and you know it."

Stiles shrugged, pulling his legs into a crossed position and proceeding to play with one of the many bracelets on his wrist. "I don't know why you're being so dramatic."

"Because it's Lydia." It was a completely illogical answer, but they both understood the significance. "And if it ends badly, it makes everything complicated."

Stiles frowned, his expression serious. "Why are you assuming it's going to end badly? We're not just fucking around, Dad. I care about her."

John could tell his son was being sincere, so his next words absolutely broke his heart. "I'm sorry, Stiles. Lydia is off limits."

Stiles's eyes flashed with anger. "That's completely unfair."

Perhaps it was, John thought as he sighed. But he also knew that his son was too emotionally invested in the situation to see the bigger picture. Despite the fact that Kyle often encouraged Stiles to flirt with anything that moved, he never wanted those tactics to be used on his daughter and John couldn't imagine the kind of hell that would rain if Kyle knew about Stiles and Lydia.

"Well," John replied, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. "That's the way it has to be unless you want to have this conversation with Kyle."

Eyes wide, Stiles stared at his father, his desire to be with Lydia conflicting with his desire to stay in his favorite uncle's good graces. He blinked, unable to respond and John left the room, wondering why everything had to be so complicated.

…

"You rebel."

Lydia looked up from where she was studying her biology notes to see Kira dropping to her knees beside Allison, grinning like a Cheshire cat as she lay down her bright red bag, causing the strap of her sundress to fall as well. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and they were spread out on a blanket in the park, attempting to do some studying, but the gorgeous weather was making it hard to concentrate.

"What?" Lydia connected her eyebrows, her large eyes staring at her friend.

"You spent Friday night doing something Uncle Kyle wouldn't approve of," Kira smirked, looking very proud of the girl people considered to be a goody two shoes.

Fighting back a blush as the recollection of Stiles's fingers grazing her skin, Lydia did her best to look completely innocent. "What are you talking about?"

At this point, Allison had completely abandoned the revision of her English assignment and was leaning towards Kira, intrigued by the topic of conversation. Although Lydia was always up for late night road trips to the woods, she wasn't the one to typically defy her parents by herself and the thought that she had done something sneaky without the other girls was interesting.

"Well," Kira continued, tucking her legs into a cross legged position beneath her. "This morning, my dad asked me if Lydia and I had fun hanging out on Friday night. The only problem is that Lydia and I didn't hang out on Friday night. But apparently Uncle Kyle was under the impression that you were with me. Don't worry, I totally covered for you."

Lydia cursed under her breath. She'd managed to get home before her parents after she left the Stilinski house, but her father had asked her how she enjoyed her evening at breakfast the next day, so she vaguely mentioned something about Kira, knowing the model was in fact hanging out with people.

Allison raised her eyebrows in surprise, her lips stretching into an excited smile. "So you lied to your dad about what you were doing? What _were _you doing?"

Before Lydia could respond, Kira's expression lit with joy and she spoke with rushed excitement. "Were you with the guy you were telling us about?"

Lydia really didn't give her friends enough credit for being observant. Her initial description of 'the guy' wasn't much of a description at all, but she shouldn't have been surprised that they would remember that and connect the dots.

"Yes," Lydia winced, getting flashbacks to John's equally disappointed and confused expression. "It was kind of traumatic, though. His dad sort of walked in on us."

She expected them to rib her and ask for more details and although Kira's smile only got wider, Allison's face seemed to be set into a sort of stony shock as she stared at her friend from the other side of the folded blanket.

"Allie?" Lydia asked in concern. "Are you alright?"

Blue eyes wide, Allie's lips parted and closed a few times before her voice came out in a cracked whisper. "You were with Stiles."

Kira wrinkled her nose in confusion because the accusation was completely absurd and she was all ready to say so until she caught sight of the look of extreme guilt on Lydia's face. Although Lydia had absolutely no clue how Allison knew this information, she had always been bad at lying to her friends, so she squinted and nodded a little, trying to gauge Allison's reaction.

"What?" Kira stared at Lydia in disbelief. "You and Stiles? As in…Stiles?! When did that happen?" She turned her confused gaze to Allison. "And how do you know about it?"

Lydia was wondering that as well. She hadn't heard from Stiles since she left his room on Friday and she was starting to wonder if he was avoiding her. Though, perhaps she was avoiding him. Lord knows she spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the keyboard on her phone, wishing she knew the perfect words to text him while also hoping that she would see his name flash across her screen.

"Stiles told me," Allison said quietly. "Well, he didn't say it was you, he just mentioned that he was with a girl and dad walked in and he wasn't sure what to do next."

"Oh," Lydia nodded, wondering if she was ever going to be able to comfortably walk into the Stilinski house again now that the majority of the family knew about her relationship with Stiles. "Are you mad?"

"No, of course not!" Allison replied immediately. "I mean, I'm a little surprised because if you were going to go for one of my brothers, I figured it would be Scott, seeing as Stiles has the maturity level of a seven year old, but how could I be mad? It's not like you can plan stuff like this."

"Thanks, Allie," Lydia sighed in relief, reaching over to squeeze her friend's hand in gratitude.

"Not to diminish the sweetness of this moment," Kira spoke, "But would it be really strange if I wanted details?"

Allison wrinkled her nose in disgust and shook her head. "Please. I'd rather not hear about my brother's kissing technique."

Lydia laughed and shook her head, glad that no matter the drama, her friends were always supportive. "Don't worry, it might not be relevant anymore anyway. Your dad seemed pretty pissed."

Leaning her head to the side, Allison shrugged. "I don't know if he's pissed as much as he's terrified of what your dad might do to Stiles if he finds out."

That was fair. Lydia recalled the way her dad had chased off the boy who had tried to kiss her on her front doorstep when he brought her home from winter formal. Kyle loved Stiles like a son, but Lydia was his only daughter and he would do anything in his power to protect her.

Glad to have things as they always were, Lydia smiled at her friends gratefully and made to change the subject, but was cut short by Allison addressing Kira.

"Hey, Kira, do you want to come with me to go look at the ducks?"

Confused as to why she wasn't being extended an invitation, Lydia followed the flickering of Allie's gaze, turning her head over her shoulder and popping her eyes wide when she noticed Stiles had just parked his beat up blue Jeep nearby and was walking towards them.

Smirking like there was no tomorrow, Kira nodded in agreement and the two girls rose to give Lydia and Stiles some time alone, Allison sending her brother a wink before they walked away.

Stiles stopped grass when he reached the edge of the blanket, shoving his fingers into the pockets of his skinny jeans and shooting her a cautious smile, his loose plaid shirt billowing in the wind. "Hey."

"Hi," she said quietly, squinting up at him because the sun was in her eyes.

"Allie mentioned you guys would be here…" She hadn't asked for an explanation of his presence, but he felt inclined to give it anyway. Sometimes he felt like everything he did let Lydia down and she was the last person that he wanted to be disappointed in him. "I was gonna call, it's just that my dad…"

He knew he wasn't making much sense, but he did have a purpose for tracking her down. There were about a million things he wanted to say to her, he just didn't know where to start.

"It's alright," she shrugged, scratching a fingernail against the notebook in her lap. "I didn't call either."

Sighing, he dropped down onto the blanket, crossing his legs so their knees were touching. He looked at her through squinted eyes, one hand reaching up to fiddle with his lip ring. "My dad is kinda freaking out."

She'd gathered that much. Based on throbbing vein in John's forehead as she left, he was far from pleased with the situation. "Is he going to tell my dad?"

It was safe to assume because Stiles's genitals were still intact and Lydia hadn't been locked away in her room that Kyle was completely unaware of what had happened.

"He said that as long as it doesn't happen again, he doesn't see why Uncle Kyle should have to know." He gazed fondly at her perfect profile, her eyes turned towards the grass on her right, and wished he could reach out and touch her satin cheek.

Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise, she thought, finding a particularly interesting blade of grass to stare at. Perhaps the world in which she and Stiles had a happy ending was one that only existed while she was asleep.

"Which is why I want to tell your dad."

Her eyes shot up to meet his fully for the first time and she shook her head almost violently. "What? No."

"Come on, Lyd," he sighed, wiggling his fingers between hers on top of the blanket. He wasn't sure how much she'd told Kira and Allison, but judging by how quickly they left when he arrived and the fact that they kept not so subtly glancing his direction from their position at the duck pond, they were somewhat clued in. "Best case scenario, he doesn't care. Worst case, he forbids it and we go back to sneaking around."

"Worst case he cuts off your penis and your dad is forced to retaliate to protect your family's honor and it starts a feud that ends a thirty year friendship," she shot back.

He couldn't help but laugh. "Don't you think you're being a little overdramatic?"

"I think you're underestimating just how protective my father is," she deadpanned.

He squeezed her fingers, rubbing his thumb gently over hers. "And I think you're not giving him enough credit. Please, Lyd? I wanna be able to take you on dates and stuff."

Breathing in deeply, Lydia let her exhale through her nose slow her heart rate, though the thought of going on actual dates with Stiles sent her pulse spiking once more. "You're probably right."

Stiles's brown eyes lit up at her words and he grinned excitedly. "Really? So you're cool with telling him?"

She chewed on her lip and shot him an unsure glance. "Maybe. Just let me think about it for a couple days? I feel like we'll need to be well prepared for that encounter."

"I'm good with that," he smiled, looking over her shoulder and taking advantage of the fact that Kira and Allison were momentarily preoccupied by the ducks to lean forward and kiss Lydia sweetly on the lips. She blushed a lovely red and he dropped an eye in a wink as he untangled their fingers. "I have to go meet Scott at the lacrosse fields, but I'll see you tonight."

She smiled and nodded as she remembered the day, giggling as he rose to his feet and brushed off his jeans, shooting her another smirk before grabbing his skateboard and trudging back down to the pathway.

Sunday night dinners had been a tradition for the Martins, Yukimuras, and Stilinskis for as long as Lydia could remember. They started off being once a week, a time when the parents could collectively dump the small children in the same space and not have to worry about them getting into too much trouble. As the children grew up, their varying interests and extracurricular activities made it difficult to commit to weekly dinners, so the families had decided to them once a month. This would be the first dinner since Stiles and Lydia's first kiss, and considering that all of the younger generation were currently aware of that relationship, it was bound to be interesting.

…

This month's dinner was at the Yukimura house, which was extremely exciting because Noshiko Yukimura was undoubtedly the best cook on the planet. Ken was the one who opened the door, running a hand through his thinning hair and flashing the smile that, since she was a toddler, had always made Lydia feel instantly calm.

As the Martins stepped through the doorway, Lydia inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of freshly baked garlic bread and felt her stomach growl in anticipation. "It smells amazing."

"Yeah, Noshiko's been cooking up a storm," Ken laughed, his expression softening as it always did at the mention of his wife. He wrapped his arms around Lydia and she sighed contently. Uncle Ken always gave the best hugs. "Lyd, the kids are out back if you wanna go find them."

She nodded, waving goodbye to her parents as they followed Ken into the kitchen, where John, Melissa, and Noshiko were presumably hanging out. With each step she took, she felt her heart rate increase as she worried whether the dynamic between the children would have changed now that everyone was acutely aware of her relationship with Stiles.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door to the backyard to find the kids sitting around a large wooden table on the back porch, sipping on various beverages. Stiles and Kira sat with their backs to her, Scott and Allie on the other side, smiling when they noticed her presence.

"Hey, Lyd," Scott greeted her, his smile wide as he glanced at his brother. Stiles's head immediately whipped around and he did his best not to look overly excited, but he couldn't help the grin that stretched his lips.

She met his gaze for a moment, but ended up flushing profusely, so she turned her attention to Kira and Allison, glad to see them despite being with them just hours before. They'd gone their separate ways shortly after Stiles left the park, once again learning how completely unproductive they were when they tried to study together.

Sliding into a chair between Scott and Kira, she smoothed down the skirt of the pink sundress Kira had bought her for her birthday and neatly folded her hands in her lap. "What's up, guys?"

"We were discussing whether our final biology exam is going to make us want to curl up in the fetal position and cry or just set something on fire," Allison jumped in, always the one to make sure everything was chill. She hated tension filled situations.

Lydia laughed lightly, a sound that made Stiles's heart swell and although she was thankful to have an excuse to look somewhere else, he found that he couldn't take his eyes off her and wondered if he'd be able to sneak her away for a quick make out session before dinner.

Kira could tell Lydia was satisfied with this topic of conversation and made to comment on it further, but Scott spoke up first. "I can't stop smiling."

Allison reached back and smacked her brother upside the head, sending him a fiery glare. "Way to make things awkward, asshole."

"What?" he blurted out, proud of the fact that he knew a piece of gossip about someone's love life before his sister. "We all know."

Lydia's eyes darted to Stiles, who was giving his brother a look that could only be summarized as 'what the fuck?' before he turned his head to gaze at her, hoping his idiot of a brother wasn't scaring her away. Of course Lydia knew things were going to be weird and she supposed it could have been a lot worse, but she needed a little bit of a break and began to stand.

"I'm gonna go get a drink," she said quietly, hands holding down the back of her skirt to keep the light breeze from lifting it.

"Do you want me to come?" Kira offered, knowing that moral support was always appreciated.

Lydia shook her head and shot her friend a grateful smile. "I'm all good. Just thirsty."

She had just stepped into the back hallway when she felt a warm hand on her waist, causing her to turn and nearly fall into Stiles's chest. He was solid as a rock and didn't move when she pushed her palms against his abs to steady herself.

"Hey," he said, placing his hands at her hips. "I'm sorry about Scott. He can be clueless sometimes."

"It's fine," she shrugged, her palms still flat against his stomach, ear cocked slightly to the side so she could hear the warming sound of Uncle Ken's bellowing laugh coming from the kitchen. "I mean, we can't really expect for everything to just be completely normal. We spent so long being just civil together that it makes sense for them to find it strange now that we're…more than that."

She wasn't entirely sure what her relationship with Stiles actually was, but she figured they could always figure that out later. They cared about each other and for now that was good enough for her.

His eyes twinkled, his lips curving into a crooked smile. "Speaking of being more than civil…"

He reached down to grab her hand, tugging her a little down the hall towards the bathroom. Before reaching the door, which was slightly ajar, he placed his hands at her waist again and lowered his lips to hers, his mouth curving into a smile when he felt her return the pressure as he pushed her backwards into the room.

His enjoyment in kissing her lips was cut short, however, by a growling, deep voice.

"Are you kidding me?"

Lydia and Stiles jerked apart, instinctively taking two steps apart, eyes widening in horror when they realized the bathroom was already occupied. John, who had a knack for knocking things over, had attempted to sneak a taste of the spaghetti sauce for dinner and had ended up spilling some down his shirt. He had been scrubbing the sauce colored stain from his bright blue button up when the two teenagers entered the room, pushing their lips together frantically.

Lydia immediately averted her gaze from John's bare chest, her cheeks flushing bright red as she twisted her fingers together.

Sighing, John shrugged his shirt back on and buttoned it up, shooting his son a disappointed look. "I can't believe this is happening." Stiles wasn't given enough time to respond when John squinted and rubbed at his forehead with his fingers. "I'm going to have to tell Kyle."

Lips parted to protest, Lydia made to speak, but was silenced by another disappointed sigh from John before he walked towards the door. "You guys wait here for a second. If I don't call for you soon, assume it's because Kyle is chasing me down the street."

"I'm sorry," Stiles said as soon as his father had disappeared. "I know I said I wanted to tell your dad, but this wasn't exactly how I pictured it happening."

"We're so dead," Lydia muttered, shaking her head and combing her fingers through her hair. "My dad's never going to let me leave the house again."

He wanted to comfort her, but he had no idea what he could say that would make the situation any better.

"Stiles, Lydia, come to the kitchen please," Melissa's voice rang out.

Wincing, Lydia turned towards the door, shaking off Stiles's hand when he tried to grab her fingers in support. She figured not giving her father as few visuals as possible was the best way to go.

They walked slowly and silently down the hallway, not making eye contact with each other until they reached the kitchen, where all of the adults were gathered. Ken and Noshiko excused themselves from the room, completely confused by the sudden turn of events, leaving Stiles and Lydia with their respective parents.

It took a few moments of internal pep talking before she finally worked up the courage to look her father in the eye. She expected anger. What she saw instead was utter confusion.

Kyle's lips parted and pressed together a few times and he shook his head as he spoke. "I don't understand…how did this even happen?"

Nobody really knew how to answer that question. Stiles figured saying 'your daughter's always been hot' would be an inappropriate response.

"I don't know," Lydia replied quietly. "We just started hanging out more and it just kind of happened."

Kyle, John, and Ken had often joked about their kids getting into romantic relationships with each other. But that's all it had ever been: a joke. Stiles had never seemed remotely interested in Lydia in a romantic sense or vice versa. And considering Kyle had often congratulated Stiles on his various hookups, he was conflicted on how to act now that the boy's attention was on his daughter.

Lydia glanced to her mother for support and received a sympathetic glance, but she could tell the woman was dumbfounded as well.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this," Kyle scratched at his hair. "But Stiles, what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?"

"Dad!" Lydia called out before Stiles could reply, "That's a totally unnecessary question."

"It's alright, Lyd," Stiles said calmly, feeling a sudden burst of confidence. Considering his reputation, he understood why his Uncle Kyle was skeptical. And if he did end up being told to stay as far away from Lydia as possible, he at least wanted her to know that everything he ever felt about her was real. Looking Kyle straight in the eyes, he began to speak. "I like Lydia. A lot. She's probably, like, the best person I know. And I know you probably think that I'm just going to break her heart, but I promise I'm not going to screw this up. Because I know I can't do better."

There was silence when he finished speaking and he wondered if everyone in the room could hear his heart pounding, but he felt it slow when small fingers intertwined with his and he looked down to see that Lydia had grabbed his hand. He wasn't sure if she was doing it as a sign of solidarity or because she was just as scared as he was, but he knew it was a feeling that he wanted engrained into his memory for all of eternity.

He shot her a grateful smile and she returned it before looking at her father again, waiting for him to respond.

There was tense silence in the room. John was chewing on his index finger, staring at his best friend's profile. The women were smiling softly at Stiles, their eyes shining as though his speech was the sweetest, most romantic thing they'd ever heard.

It seemed like a lifetime before Kyle actually spoke again and Lydia never knew that one word could sound so sweet.

"Ok."

Stiles and Lydia's heads shot up, their faces both breaking into wide grins.

"But if you make her cry even once…" Kyle pointed a finger at Stiles sternly.

"I'm dead, I know," Stiles nodded in response.

Laughing, Lydia dropped Stiles's hand, taking two steps forward to throw her arms around her father's neck and squeeze him tightly. Their sweet moment was interrupted by cheers from the hallway, where the other kids, Noshiko, and Ken had been listening in.

Too happy to be embarrassed, Stiles hugged his father, who let out his own sigh of relief that he hadn't been chased down by his best friend. The others reentered the kitchen to grab the necessary items to set the table for dinner and John stopped Lydia on her way out, her small fingers wrapped around a handful of forks.

"Hey Lyd," he said quietly once they were the only ones in the kitchen. "Be careful with Stiles, ok? I know he seems all suave and confident, but you're the first girl he's ever cared this much about and I don't want to see him get hurt either."

John knew Stiles would probably be annoyed at him for saying this, but he had an obligation to protect his son's feelings as well.

"I won't break his heart," she replied, nodding in understanding. "I promise."

"Good," John grinned. "Let's go eat."

Lydia sat next to Stiles at dinner. They held hands under the table, not wanting to rub their newfound happiness in too much. She wasn't really sure how their relationship was going to work and she had no idea whether she and Stiles being romantic would change things with Scott, Allison, and Kira, but for the first time in a while, Lydia felt a sense of peace, as though everything just might turn out alright.

Scott was no longer the only one who couldn't stop smiling.


End file.
